8
Harrison
I tuckedmyself into the pantry, squeezing onto a box of canned goods. Outside, Collette played happily on my extra work phone I’d given her. I’m sure Frankie wouldn’t like that, but Christ, I needed a moment to think. The situation at Sedar’s was far worse than I’d thought. No way could any one person handle all this. My head spun. Collette and George ping-ponged demands back and forth so fast I couldn’t keep up. How had Frankie handled this for two years? I dialed Emma, and she answered right away.
“Harrison? Where are you? I can’t see anything.” Emma leaned closer to the screen. I didn’t recognize where she was.
“Shh, keep your voice down,” I said.
“What’s going on? Where are you? Are you in a closet?”
“I’m at George’s. Are you free?”
“Yes, but turn a light on. I can’t see you.”
“I’m adding Charlie. Hang on,” I said.
Charlie’s face popped up a moment later. “Heya,” he said loudly, propped against his headboard. “What’ve I missed?”
Emma and I shushed him.
“Harrison is in a closet, and we have to whisper,” Emma said.
“The media would have a field day with that one,” he chuckled.
“It’s a larder!” I whisper-yelled.
Kate leaned into the screen, her wide eyes glinting as she waved perkily. Her head moved closer, eyes squinting. “Harrison, are you stuck in a closet?”
“It’s the larder,” Charlie said.
Kate turned to him with a frown. “Is that better?”
“If he gets peckish,” Charlie said.
“Are you peckish, Harrison?” Kate asked me.
“Harrison is clearly having some sort of a crisis,” Emma added. “Although maybe he is hangry.”
“No. I’m not hangry. And it’s not a crisis. I just don’t want Collette to hear.” I dropped the phone, peeked through a sliver of door to check, and found her giggling and making faces at herself in the camera.
“Is Collette okay?” Emma asked worriedly.
“Yeah, she’s eating cheesy crackers and taking selfies on my work phone,” I explained.
“That’s hardly a reason to hide in the closet,” Charlie said.
“Larder,” Kate corrected sweetly.
I groaned and dropped my head. This had been a mistake. People in love were the worst.
“Okay, okay. Sorry, mate, what’s going on?” Charlie asked.
“It’s worse here than I thought.”
“What do you mean?” Charlie frowned.
“George. His memory.” I didn’t feel right telling them about the video or Frankie’s role in the next story. They didn’t know who she was anyway, and I didn’t have time to explain. “He’s gone downhill since his fall.”
